Chapter 7 #2
Viktoria awoke, expecting to see…someone, but there was no one there. She must have dreamed Alex had been here, kissing her, saying something she couldn’t quite remember.
“Ah, you’re awake,” said a pleasant looking nurse. “As soon as the orderly arrives, we’ll be moving you to your own room. Is there someone you’d like me to call? What about that gorgeous man who was climbing the walls with worry over you?”
Alex! He really had been here. She had a vague memory of him driving her to the hospital, but her head was still foggy. Where was he now? She didn’t know how to get in touch with him, not without going through Yuri.
More than anything, she wished Alex was here, holding her hand, talking to her, letting her feed off the strength that emanated from him like the sun’s rays.
Viktoria looked past the nurse into the hallway, seeing only another nurse talking to a doctor. “No. There’s no one.” She sighed, then gasped as a jolt of pain ravaged her rib cage. Tears pricked her eyes as the full impact of what her husband had done to her sank in.
A hospital orderly came in and started rolling her past the nurse.
“By the way,” the nurse said, “you have a visitor. I’ll check on you later. When you get to your new room, push the ringer if you need anything.”
The nurse left and, as the orderly pushed her bed out the door and down the hall, a very kind-looking woman with gray hair walked beside them.
“I’m Marissa Bennett,” the woman said. “I’m with the Women’s Crisis Intervention Team. I help women who are in a bad situation and can’t seem to get themselves out of it, at least not without help. That’s what I’m here for.”
The next morning, Viktoria ate a gourmet breakfast of oatmeal and rubbery eggs, pondering all the information Marissa had supplied.
Marissa worked for an organization that aided women who’d left abusive relationships and had nowhere else to go and no financial means to support themselves or their children.
Marissa assured her the hospital staff and security personnel had been briefed on a detailed safety plan, not only for her benefit, but for the safety of hospital personnel.
If Yuri or anyone else showed up inquiring whether she was a patient here, the response would be negative and the hospital’s safety plan would be initiated immediately.
The kind woman explained that as soon as the doctor discharged her, she’d move to a safe house. There, she would interact with counselors and other women at varying stages of recovery. Later, if she wished, a court advocate would assist her in commencing divorce proceedings against Yuri.
The court advocate would represent her interests by assisting the judge in understanding the difficult nuances of an abusive marriage and furthering any other proceedings, such as a restraining order that would prohibit Yuri from coming anywhere near her or attempting to contact her.
Lastly, Marissa presented her with the potential option of relocating with her mother under new identities to a different part of the country.
These were all gigantic steps, but she finally believed if she didn’t take them, Yuri would surely kill her next time.
Four days after being admitted, she nearly choked on her oatmeal. She gaped at the TV as armed federal agents led her husband and many others away in handcuffs. She listened to a reporter describe events that had taken place at dawn.
“The Chicago Bratva was dealt an unprecedented blow this morning, as nearly twenty high-ranking leaders and soldiers were arrested by the FBI during a massive raid. Charges include racketeering, smuggling, fraudulent schemes, conspiracy, mail fraud, and attempted murder.”
Viktoria watched FBI agents and Illinois State Troopers lead her husband out of their house in handcuffs.
The footage switched to another residence where Nikolai Petrov was taken from his house in pajamas while Olga cried and cursed, her revealing lingerie not leaving much to the imagination.
Similar scenes flashed across the TV as Semyon Novikov and many of her husband’s friends and colleagues were led into a prisoner van.
Sometime during their marriage, she’d come to realize Yuri was involved in something illegal.
By that time, she’d ceased caring about anything except getting hit.
Still, she hadn’t realized the full extent of his illegal activities.
Now, it worried her that one day it might come back to bite her as well.
Where was Alex?
The last bite of oatmeal threatened to reverse course in her throat. The TV footage hadn’t shown him getting arrested. If Yuri was given a lengthy sentence for whatever he’d done, maybe she and Alex could have a chance together.
Another thought instantly brought tears to her eyes.
Had Yuri killed Alex for helping her?
A horrible image of him lying dead in a ditch or at the bottom of Lake Michigan with a bullet hole in the back of his head had those tears spilling from her lids.
Please, God, no. Anything but that.
Unable to watch more, she clicked off the TV and picked up a small hand mirror one of the nurses had brought her. Despite the fact half her face was still purple, she experienced something she hadn’t known in years––hope.
If Yuri was really in jail, he couldn’t hurt her anymore. With Marissa’s help, maybe she could get a divorce. But she couldn’t stop thinking and worrying about Alex.
The memory of him tenderly touching her bruises that day on the sandbar came to her. Nurses confirmed that he’d been the one to bring her to the hospital. Since then, he hadn’t come to visit her. She’d have gone anywhere with him. All he would have had to do was ask. But he hadn’t.
And he didn’t ever come back.